10/23/2026
THIS WILL TAKE JUST A MOMENT
Blog post by Jeff Hampton
Are you as overwhelmed — or perhaps just irritated — as I am by check-ins, reminders and surveys flowing through your email and text inboxes? It’s relentless, and sometimes it feels invasive.
I had a routine auto service visit recently at a well-known dealership in town. It all went well and smoothly, but after I made the appointment online two weeks earlier — because that’s how it works now — I was bombarded with reminders. And I’d barely left the parking lot after the service when I received a survey eagerly asking me to share my experience.
I have a lot of periodic doctor appointments in the wake of my cancer diagnosis and treatments three years ago, and the reminders and pre-checks and all of that are exhausting. And then come the surveys, but not just regarding the doctors, physicians’ assistants, nursing staff and others. Many of my appointments are at UT Southwestern, and parking at some of their facilities is valet only, which I actually like because it’s convenient, cheap and a blessing if you’re running late. But when I get back in my car, about the same time I shift into drive my phone vibrates with a survey wanting me to rate their service.
I was at another medical facility recently and their parking is managed by an app. I was in the middle of getting signed up and had just entered my phone number when I received a survey. I hadn’t even parked yet.
Same with restaurants, car washes, retailers, hotels — any place where you use your phone or computer to sign up, sign out or pay. You’re barely out the door before the phone vibrates.
And then there are the questions, such as, “Would you recommend us to a friend or family member?” It’s annoying when it’s the only option (such as valet parking at UTSW), or the doctor was referred by another doctor and thus not exactly chosen by me.
While on Zoom this week waiting for an interviewee to join our meeting, I got a pop-up survey from Zoom asking if I would recommend the app to others. The answer is, “Yes, but not now, please. Sort of busy here in case you didn’t notice.”
Sometimes I wonder about the purpose of the survey. My previous vehicle was bought and serviced at another dealership, and one day when the visit went poorly, I was honest in my survey answers. That prompted a call from a manager who said the service advisor would need to be retrained or perhaps let go.
Good grief, it was just a bad experience, not life or death. I told him to tap the breaks on sending the service advisor to re-education camp, and he said that could only happen if I resubmitted the survey with more positive ratings. I did so but only to keep the poor man from losing his job. I guess that makes me a compassionate liar.
My alma mater, which I love dearly, sends a survey after every football game asking me to rate various aspects of the “game day experience” aside from the actual competition on the field. I basically tell them it’s too much and too loud; I’m there for college football and not sensory overload with DJ music drowning out the bands between every play, videos on the jumbotron and games with fans in the seats during TV timeouts. Alas, I must not be their target audience because it seems every week they pile on more “entertainment.”
I think a lot of my dislike for surveys is because I don’t consult surveys to make my decisions. I go where I want to go and do what I want to do based on cost, convenience and sometimes just whim or whatever pops up first. Especially if it’s a cheap purchase and highest quality isn’t critical.
I don’t know why these intrusions annoy me so much, or better said, why I let them annoy me. Isn’t it really just the price we pay for living in a digital world with all its amazing conveniences? After all, the same technology that creates the survey lets me pre-check online for the doctor rather than filling out a stack of forms on a clipboard or tablet in the waiting room. Or allows me to reserve a maintenance slot or a restaurant table ahead of time rather than driving up or walking in and being told there’s an hour wait or “not today.”
The simple solution to surveys is to not answer them, but sometimes I give in to their constant needling. And sometimes I feel compelled to respond when I believe the person or entity would benefit from sincere praise for a service that truly benefitted me. I’m not keen on venting anger or frustration through surveys, but pretending there’s not a problem when there is one doesn’t help anyone.
By the way, I didn’t intentionally wait to post this until after Wilshire conducted its visioning survey, but I’m glad it worked out that way. I believe who we are and what we do together as a church merits thoughtful, prayerful feedback. I certainly participated in that process and will be watching for other opportunities to add my voice to the conversation.
Just don’t buzz me on the way out the door after worship and ask me to rate the experience. Thank you!
